What started as a grand design
Where hands and minds and hearts divined
Containing much, but sands of time
Were left to grind and spin

It wore away as floors of clay
The wars and worries bored and frayed
Where level once – now shorn and swayed
Like some half-hearted grin

Til what was left was little more
Than grit and sand and brittle floor
That left so weak the middle core
So much to our chagrin

So how does one proceed from here
With grief, unclear, or deeds endeared
To keep the loss or leave the fear
To opt for thick or thin

2 thoughts on “Thin

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